


Four Times Tony Didn't Hug Peter, and The One Time He Did

by goldenrazzmatazz



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidentally High, Alcohol, Angst, Dad!Stark - Freeform, Drunk Tony Stark, Embarrassment, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), POV Peter Parker, POV Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Relationships, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, heights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-07-19 20:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19980097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenrazzmatazz/pseuds/goldenrazzmatazz
Summary: Tony Stark doesn't do hugs. Peter Parker, on the other hand, is a kid who really needs one.Tags will be updated as the chapters are added.





	1. Chapter 1

1.

He didn’t mean to cause any trouble.

In fact, it was Peter’s goal not to cause any additional problems for Mr. Stark. Ever Mr. Stark had hired him for an ‘internship’, he was desperate not to make any mistakes that would cause him to reconsider his generosity. It wasn’t easy, being a Friendly Neighbourhood Spiderman had a lot of risks, and a lot of them were advertised heavily online when people posted pictures of him on social media. Usually, he tried his best to leave a situation as quickly as he arrived.

This time, he had failed in that regard.

He had been on the subway with Ned when he heard the situation started popping up on their Twitter feed. There was a hostage situation in a hotel near Pierrepoint Plaza. A husband, upset with his wife’s adultery, was holding her and their children at gunpoint. The police had been called, and there had been a tense standoff for the past two hours.

Immediately, Peter wanted to go. He knew he had the tools to help. Ned, however, was less keen.

“You’re not a hostage negotiator, and he has guns. Who knows how dangerous he is?”

“Yeah, but I can web him, he won’t be able to go anywhere.”

“What if he starts shooting? You can’t protect yourself and the kids.”

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“Isn’t Stark in New York for some conference this weekend? It’s all over the news. If it gets bad enough, maybe he’ll come and help them out.”

Peter was doubtful. Mr. Stark usually had bigger issues on his plate, but he told Ned he wouldn’t go.

Fifteen minutes later, Peter was swinging towards the plaza. He had left Ned at the subway stop, feigning an emergency from Aunt May. Two minutes later he got a text,

“Stay safe, Spiderman.”

Beneath the mask, Peter smiled. There were only a handful of people who knew who was under the mask, Mr. Stark, Ned, and Happy, and two of those three didn’t give compliments or safe wishes freely.

He didn’t have a chance to even try to stay safe. He had climbed halfway up the building, only five floors below the standoff when he ran out of web fluid.

“No, no, no, no.” Peter whispered, pulling the mechanism open and shaking it violently, “This isn’t happening.

It was happening. He was stuck against the side of a building with no way to get down.

He looked down. He wasn’t afraid of heights, not when he knew that he had the technology to prevent himself from plummeting to his death. Without that technology, he was scared shitless.

“Breathe, Peter.” He mumbled to himself.

Leaning his forehead against the cool side of the building, he tried to steady his breathing. Panicking wouldn’t help the situation.

But he was so high from the ground. If he fell, there was no way he’d be able to survive. His accelerating healing wouldn’t save him if he was splattered across the pavement.

He needed to think, he needed a plan.

Eventually, someone would notice he was up there. They would send someone to open a window, or a firetruck to help him get out. Except then they would try and question him. Would his rescuer be willing to let him go, or would they be entranced by the Bugle’s reward on his head?

The thought brought another wave of anxiety, and Peter’s legs turned to jello at the thought. Even if someone found him, he couldn’t trust that they’d protect his identity. Even worse, he’d be at their mercy until he was back on ground. They could follow him once he was on the ground and see where he lived. They could track him, and tell May exactly where they had found him.

These thoughts were not helping him think clearly.

Remembering the counsellor he had visited before his parents died, Peter inhaled deeply. He held the breath for four seconds, and then released it on another four count. He continued the process until his body stopped shaking, and then did another four repeats for good measure.

“Now think. How are we getting down from here?”

There were only three people who knew that Peter Parker was secretly Spiderman-his best friend Ned, Happy Hogan, and Tony Stark.

Mr. Stark was absolutely out of the question. He was not, and would not, inform him that he had left on patrol without double checking that he had web fluid. It would be embarrassing, and it would give him another reason not to trust him.

That left two people. Ned Leeds, who already advised him not to approach the situation, and Happy Hogan, who despised babysitting the ‘spider-ling’.

His phone was in his hand before he knew it, searching through his contacts to find his best friend. On the second ring, he answered.

“Man in the chair at your assistance. How can I help?” Ned’s voice chirped on the other end.

“Ned, I’m stuck.”

Peter could practically imagine how Ned’s eyes would widen and his mouth would drop open at the phrase.

“Like they’re shooting at you? Oh my god, did they shoot you? Did they tie you up?”

“No, I didn’t even make it into the building.” His cheeks reddened, “I ran out of web fluid.”

“What?”

“I’m on the side of the building, and I’m pretty high up.”

“You didn’t check before you left?”

Peter really didn’t need a lecture right now.

“Ned, can you just help me.”

Peter chewed his lip, squeezing his eyes shut. He was hoping that Ned would have a solution, or at the very least an idea he could try.

“What do you want me to do?”

Shit.

“No ideas?”

Suddenly, the phone cut out, and a new voice emerged from the side of the building.

“Well, It’s all over the news. Daily Bugle is having a blast right now. _Spiderman Afraid Of Heights_. Jameson’s been laughing at your expense for almost an hour.”

Finally, an Iron Mark suit appeared from the side of the building.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”

The suit floated in the air beside him, and the head tilted quizzically. If he didn’t know better, Peter would have thought that Tony himself was in the suit.

“What happened?”

Peter let out a breath before starting.

“Well, I was with Ned downtown and I saw online that there was a hostage situation. I couldn’t let anyone get hurt, and it had been so long that I decided to check it out myself. I was going to be careful, Ned warned me, because they would have guns and-”

“Yeah, I gathered all of that. Why are you standing outside the window like the world’s youngest Peeping Tom?”

“I ran out of web fluid halfway up.”

The figure froze. Floating in midair, it became as still as it could without falling. As if the machine itself tensed with the words.

“You ran out? You didn’t think to, I don’t know, check?”

That was disappointment.

“I got excited.”

“So excited that you almost got yourself killed? What if you ran out while you were in the middle of that hostage situation? Or while you were midair? You could have died, instead of being humiliated online.”

Peter hung his head in shame, his face almost as red as the mask covering it. He was more than ashamed, he was horrified. He could have died, and it would have been his own fault.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that already.”

That was bad. Real bad. Mr. Stark usually tried to make Peter feel at least a little bit better about his mistakes. Straight up dismissing him was not a good sign.

“Hop on, buttercup.” Tony stretched his arms out as if to hug him, flying close enough that Peter was hit with a breeze.

“What?”

“Hop on. There’s no other way to get you down. I’m going to need to carry you.”

“Mr. Stark, that’s ridiculous. That’s humiliating.”

“So is forgetting to check how much web you have.”

That shut Peter up fast.

“You can either stay up here, or I can carry you down. Your choice. I wonder how long it’ll take May to realize you’re missing.”

Peter was stuck for the second time that evening. He didn’t want to be flown down like a child, but it was the only option. His image will be ruined. Not his image, but Spiderman’s, and that was just as bad. He was sure there was another way, but Mr. Stark didn’t seem like he was willing to budge.

No, rubbing salt in the wound was definitely to rub in the message of how badly he messed up.

Finally, Peter raised his arms up. Like a child waiting for a hug when Daddy came home from work, he stood.

He wondered how many news sites were streaming this live.

“I think I saw a buzzfeed article on my way here.” Mr. Stark answered the unspoken question.

“Oh god.”

Peter wrapped his arms around the neck, cringing at what headlines would be written. He’d be compared to a child (which he was), and there would be headlines about how he was a maiden in distress.

Even with one arm, the Mark flew flawlessly. It zipped through the air, and thankfully he took a route that would have made it difficult for the media to follow it after a few minutes. Still, Peter burned in shame.

“I’m going to drop you off a few blocks from home. Don’t want anyone finding out where you live.”

Peter mumbled a reply. The adrenaline was wearing off, and he was tired. He had been standing on the side of the building for almost an hour, and it was exhausting. He just wanted to go to bed.

The two landed in an alleyway three blocks from Peter’s house. Peter didn’t say anything, his head hung low. After a moment, Mr Stark spoke.

“You okay, kid?”

Peter shrugged half-heartedly.

“Peter, look at me.”

Peter lifted his head. His face was obscured by the mask, and he didn’t try to take it off. He didn’t want Mr Stark to see how upset he was, and was thankful that he didn’t ask.

“Everyone messes up sometimes. This?” He gestured wildly, “Not a big deal. What matters is you’re safe.”

Peter didn’t respond, but his body language immediately shifted. His center of balance lifted, and he faced the suit steadily. 

“Thank you.”

“You better be getting home. Try to avoid any tall buildings.”

Peter nodded, and started sprinting down the road.

“And replace your damn webs!” He called back, turning over his shoulder.

“Got it, Mr Stark!”

It wasn’t until Peter was out of sight that Tony removed his helmet, the nanotech receding into his glasses.

He had known that Peter was getting low on fluid three days ago. KAREN had sent an alert when he got down to half, and another when it was a quarter. When he saw on the news that the menace known as Spiderman had become trapped on the side of a building, he knew what had happened.

Tony had meant it as a lesson, nothing more. Honestly, Peter should have checked the levels. He would have gotten twice as many notifications as Tony. It was his own fault that he had gotten stuck.

Well, not really.

He was just a kid. He was a genius, and it sometimes made Tony forget how young he was. A kid who shouldn’t feel as if he had to rush into a hostage situation to save people he didn’t even know.

He had thought a little extra humiliation would teach him a lesson. Tease him a little, carry him home so the news would catch a few seconds of footage, and then let him know that he was there to see it. Exactly what he would have done to Steve or Clint if they’d found themselves in the same situation.

When he picked him up and he was shaking though, he knew it had gone too far. Peter wasn’t just stressed, he was scared.

Unsure if it was because of the harsh words or the situation, Tony decided not to reveal that he was present. He didn’t want to push the kid over the edge. He was a good kid, and didn’t deserve that.

No, he deserved much better than that.

Tony made a note to remind himself to be a bit easier on him, and to send a text in the morning to see how he was doing. No, maybe later in the week would be better. Peter had left a message saying he was excited for the decathlon competition later that week, he’d call him the night before to boost his moral.

Or he would, as long as Peter remembered to top up that damn fluid.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

The embarrassing part was that Tony could handle his alcohol.

It was the third annual charity gala that Pepper began after she became CEO. Despite the fact they donated billions to charity every year, she wanted to prove that it wasn't just Tony who was charitable. She needed to prove to the global population that she was just as deserving of the CEO position as he had been.

Tony had promised that he would personally tell every single person that had every doubted her that she was more than deserving. 

"I can even tell them how much of a giver you really are." 

She had smacked his arm for that, but he saw the smirk over her face and knew she thought it was funny, and shouted that he better not cause any trouble while she was entertaining the guests that evening.

Less than an hour later he found the bottle of Asgardian Mead in the bar. Sneaking a peek back at his fiancée, Tony had slipped it into his pocket before he welcomed his guests.

It couldn't be that strong, could it?

Outside, Peter Parker paced nervously. For the sixth time, he checked his breast pocket that he still had his ticket, and for the tenth time he felt his pocket for his wallet. Even if he forgot them both, he knew that KAREN would run facial recognition and let him inside, but he didn't want any slip ups in front of Mr. Stark.

It had taken three months to convince the billionaire to let him attend the function. When he first saw it on Buzzfeed, he had made sure to casually mention it in front of Mr. Stark. When he was brushed off, he brought it up in front of Happy. Happy had laughed, pointing out that Peter was too young to drink, let alone attend an event where the average net worth was worth more than his entire apartment complex. 

Peter shrugged it off. It would be disappointing not to be invited, but he didn't want to nag Mr Stark about it.

Except he really, really wanted to go.

It was three in the morning when Peter left the voicemail. He was exhausted after a night of patrolling, only realizing that his Spanish midterm was the next day a little after midnight. When KAREN dinged on his wrist to notify him for the sixth time that he should go to bed soon, he told her to shut up and leave her alone. He immediately, apologized, but the damage was done. On the seventh, when she alerted him that she would be sending his sleep reports to Mr. Stark, and he picked up the phone and called.

He didn't pick up. Of course he didn't, Peter reasoned. He was a busy man, and was definitely asleep. He didn't need to stay up until three in the morning to make sure he got everything done, he probably stuck to a strict schedule and never procrastinated.

In fact, Tony was awake. He had programmed KAREN to wake him whenever Peter had a spike in cortisol levels, or whenever he showed signs of undue stress. When the alarm stirred, he crawled out of bed and walked to the kitchen, sipping a glass of water as he waited for the levels to decrease. When they didn't, he checked the GPS, and upon realizing that Peter was at home, he told Friday to tell Peter to go to bed. An hour later, he sent another message, then another. He was sending them at twenty minute intervals, and getting more irritated by the second. Why couldn't the kid just take care of his body? 

After the seventh warning, his phone started ringing. 

"Shit." Tony wondered if Peter somehow knew that it wasn't an automatic message, but Tony playing helicopter parent. 

As it rang to voicemail, Tony felt his chest tighten.

He let it ring to voicemail, his heart dropping on the second ring. What if there was some sort of emergency, and he was leaving Peter to suffer?

Once the phone finished ringing, Tony dialled the voicemail code. He punched it in so quickly the first time that he missed a number, so he carefully pressed them on the second.

Peter's voice crackled over the line.

"Hey Mr Stark, I'm real sorry that I'm bugging you again. I forgot I had a test tomorrow so I've been studying," Tony grimaced, it was the third time this month that Peter had forgotten something to go on patrol, "And I didn't take her seriously when she told me to go to bed. I'm fine though, just tired."

He emphasized the last words with a yawn.

"You're probably asleep right now, so sorry again. I know you gotta get ready for that event Friday night. I keep seeing it on the news, it seems really cool. So of you need any," Peter's voice hesitated, clearly reconsidering the rest of his sentence, "Never mind. Have a good night, Mr Stark."

As the phone clicked off, Tony felt a pang of guilt wash over him. Of course the kid knew about the gala, and of course he would want to go. Even if it didn't make logical sense to have an intern at his charity gala, it wouldn't occur to Peter the repercussions or implications.

Still, the poor kid was working so hard, and needed some time to relax. He'd missed his own school dance to fight Adrien Toomes, all because he didn't think Tony was listening to him.

As Tony walked down the hallway and climbed into bed, he made a note to himself to tell Pepper to send a group of interns, Peter included, an invitation.

Which led to this moment.

Sixteen-year old Peter Parker, who was too young to drink but old enough to fight crime, standing in the Stark Tower elevator as he ascended into the party of all parties.

If only Flash could see him now.

The doors opened, and Peter's eyes widened.

Men in tuxedos that cost more than his tuition walked through the halls, holding wine glasses filled with drinks that had names Peter couldn't pronounce. With them were women in luxury gowns. He didn't care much about fashion, but he could tell the fabric was much more intricate and expensive than what he had gotten at the mall.

He was instantly self-conscious. He turned slightly, wondering if he could go back downstairs when a redhead woman near the elevator made eye contact.

Pepper smiled at him and waved him over, and Peter huffed heavily as he strode across the room. He made sure to keep his posture straight, he didn't need to slouch in front of all of these people.

She greeted him with a hug, whispering how handsome he looked into his ear.

Peter liked Pepper. She had a warm openness that reminded him of May, and despite her position she treated him like a son. He didn't feel like he had to win her approval in the same way he felt he had to win Mr Stark's. Not that she wasn't intimidating in her own right, she was the CEO of a major corporation, but she kept a level headedness that he had never seen before.

"How are you, Ms Potts?" Peter cringed at the way how high pitched his voice sounded in comparison to the men around him.

"I've told you, you can call me Pepper."

"Sorry. How are you Pepper? You look beautiful."

Beautiful was an understatement. She was wearing an elegant, form fitting dress. It was modest, and although her shoulders were exposed she was wearing a stylish matching cape around her shoulders. Peter was most shocked by the colour, a pure white, and how she would be able to keep it so spotless for the rest of the night. He was definitely underdressed.

She smiled and thanked him, and instantly went red.

"Not that that's what is important. You also look really intelligent, like a boss."

She laughed loudly, her hand covering her mouth.

"Thanks, Peter. You're probably the first person to have said that tonight."

Was that a bad thing? Peter wasn't sure, and he felt a cool dribble of sweat run down his back.

"Thank you for inviting me, it means a lot. I know it was hard pulling strings since I'm not technically-"

"Peter, it's fine." Pepper touched his arm, "Just don't tell anyone what you were just about to say."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but no drinking."

"It is a school night."

"Even if Tony says it's okay. Especially if Tony says it's okay."

Peter nodded, nose crinkling in confusion. When he'd told Mr Stark he would be coming to the gala, he'd replied surprisingly quick, and the message was clear. He was not allowed to drink, was not allowed to consume any drugs, and had to leave by midnight. The text joked that he was Cinderella at the ball.

"I won't."

"Okay," She waved at someone across the room, "Listen, I have to go. Do some networking, it'll be fun."

Peter remembered the scuffs on his used shoes, and looked at the floor as he nodded.

"Hey, listen to me." Pepper leaned forward, "Forget about what everyone else is wearing. You look stunning, and the fact that you're here is impressive enough. Besides, everyone who has seen you standing with me is going to want to know your name."

Peter's chest puffed out a little bit at that, and he nodded obediently.

Yeah, he really liked Pepper.

As she walked away, he scanned the room for a familiar face. He knew he wouldn't see any of the Avengers, they'd been on the run since the accords, but he was hoping to see at least one famous person.

Except he couldn't find anyone he recognized, and despite Pepper's words he still felt self-conscious.

He made it about three steps before he felt a hand on his jacket.

He turned to face a man slightly shorter than himself. What he lacked in height he made up for in presence, his soldier-like posture reminding Peter of the videos of Captain America he had been forced to watch in school. He looked official, and he seemed vaguely familiar, but Peter couldn't place him.

"Hello, Everett Ross." The man reached out to shake his hand.

His suit fit perfectly, as if it was custom tailored, but there was something extraordinarily plain about it. There were no intricate details like those on the other men, and it seemed to have the same basic stitch as Peter's.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Peter Parker." 

"How are you involved with Stark Industries, Mr Parker?"

"I'm actually an intern. I've been working here a few months."

Unconsciously, Peters eyes flickered to Pepper. Mr Ross' followed his gaze, and he smirked.

"An intern at a charity gala? They must be paying you pretty nicely." 

Peter pulled on the sleeves of his own jacket as he thought of a response.

"Pepper and Mr Stark invited some of us for free. To boost morale, I think."

The shorter man raised an eyebrow, then glanced over his shoulder. Peter wondered who, or what he was looking for.

"An intern at a charity gala who is on a first name basis with the CEO?"

Oh no, that was not a good look. Peter's face burned as he shook his head.

"No, nothing like that. I promise. Mr Stark, he's been very good to me. And I'd never-"

"I'm pulling your chain, Kid."

"Oh."

Peter felt like an idiot. Of course this man, Mr Ross, wouldn't think he would be having an affair with Pepper Potts. The idea was ridiculous. Even more embarrassing was that he freaked out about it.

"You okay there?" The man stepped forward, and Peter instantly felt uncomfortable. He still couldn't figure out how he knew him.

"Yeah, sorry. Er, you didn't tell me what you do, Mr Ross."

Mr Ross tightened his tie as he spoke, 

"Government, mostly. It's confidential, but I can tell you that I have worked with Tony on a number of official matters." He waved his hands in the air, "Not with Stark Industries as much as the whole Iron Man thing."

Well, Peter wouldn't have called the Avengers Tony's Iron Man _thing_ , but he wasn't about to correct him.

"Oh, that's nice."

Mr Ross waited for him to continue, but Peter stayed silent. He nodded for a moment, and then glanced around the room.

"I'll let you have your fun, but don't get into too much trouble, Peter."

Peter felt a shiver go down his spine at the way Mr Ross said his name, as if there was an unspoken threat that he didn't know about.

He'd ask Happy about it later.

Peter said his goodbyes before continuing around the room. He'd never craved alcohol before, but he wished he had a bit of the so-called liquid courage. It would make him a bit less self-conscious.

He managed to stop and speak with a few people. A group of younger lab technicians pulled him into a conversation about how stuffy the event was, and who laughed loudly when he made a reference to Star Wars. Next, he met a woman who bore a striking resemblance to the black widow, the only noticeable difference being her blond hair and thick Russian accent. She'd introduced herself as Mr Stark's ex-assistant and asked him about school. He had noticed Mr Ross following him, and when she realized that it was his presence making him uncomfortable, she had pulled him onto the balcony.

"It's sad that the Avengers disintegrated."

"I guess so, but they had to follow the law."

"How do you think he is?" She gestured towards the party, "Tony Stark, the only Avenger left in the world."

He wasn't sure how to answer. He didn't want to betray Mr Stark, not to some stranger who could be a tabloid reporter. He shrugged,

"I think he's happy."

After a few more minutes of conversation, she mumbled a goodbye and disappeared into the crowd. 

He was hoping to have met more of Stark's interns, but he only happened to run into one. A gangly boy, Harley, who had looked just as uncomfortable as Peter. Thankfully, Harley didn't ask about any specifics regarding the internship that Peter couldn't answer. They talked for almost an hour before Peter checked his watch and realized that it was almost time to leave. They swapped instagram handles, promising to keep in touch, before Peter crossed the room towards the elevator.

He was a little disappointed he hadn't seen Mr Stark, but it wasn't enough to dampen the evening. It was pretty cool to attend something so prestigious, and for the most part the few people he had talked to were kind and respectful.

"How was your evening, Peter?" KAREN asked as the elevator pinged shut.

"It was actually pretty good!"

"Good! The elevator is going to be stopping on the fourth floor for another visitor, as long as that's okay with you, Peter."

"Of course it is!"

Despite being the only one in the elevator, Peter stepped backwards as it slowed to a stop. He wanted to ensure whoever was entering had enough space.

The door pinged, and slid open.

The man who stood in front of Peter was a wreck. He must have been wearing a tuxedo, but the jacket was missing and the shirt was only partially buttoned. A bowtie lay undone around his neck, and his hair was flat against his head.

"Mr Stark?" 

Tony's eyes were glassy and bloodshot behind his glasses. Or rather glass, as one of the lenses was missing. 

"Pete! Thereyar'" Tony slurred, leaning against the wall, "Hoareyou?"

"Mr Stark! Are you okay?" Peter rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Mr Stark's waist as he fell forward into the younger boy. Peter's super strength was the only thing keeping them from both falling to the floor.

"Drank Thor's beer." He mumbled into Peter's shoulder, as if it explained exactly why he looked like he'd fallen off the side of the building. 

A clicking noise echoed down the hallway as Pepper sprinted after her husband. From the elevator, Peter could see she was furious.

"Tony, I can't believe you!"

"Miss Potts, I think he's okay!" Peter called.

"Pep?" Tony was practically incoherent, "Hey Pep, I love ya."

"Oh my god, Peter. I am so sorry. This is so embarrassing, and-"

"It's no worries, Ms Potts," Peter lifted Mr Stark up over his shoulder with a shrug, "I can carry him back to bed if you'd like. I've done it before to Ned."

In less than a second, three expressions crossed Pepper's face. First, one of absolute shock that Peter would be willing to do such a thing. Second, one of pure adoration that Tony's mentee cared about him as much as Tony refused to admit that he cared. Lastly, a look of pure evil as she reached into a pocket in her wrap to pull out her cell phone.

"You know what, Peter? I think that's a brilliant idea."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note:  
> This chapter deals with grief, the loss of a parental figure, and a lot of angst.

Tony had spent the last hour and a half searching for the kid, but he was nowhere to be found.

It wasn't like Peter to simply vanish without a trace. Sure, Tony logically understood that the kid had the brains to disable KAREN's GPS tracker. Yes, he'd done it in the past. Despite that, Tony knew that Peter wouldn't just vanish on him. Especially given the circumstances.

It was late August. Summer was almost over and the crisp Autumn leaves crunched under Tony's leather shoe as he walked beside Peter down 16th avenue. Peter was practically skipping to keep up with the man, Tony's steady stride slightly faster than Peter's erratic one. After weeks of begging, Tony had finally agreed to go on an _adventure_ , as Peter called it. 

"C'mon Mr Stark. It's the best hot dog you've ever eaten!"

Tony smirked at this, and forced himself not to chuckle.

"I'm a billionaire. I've had hotdogs more expensive than your dream car."

Without missing a beat, Peter replied,

"Yeah but I bet they weren't made with _love.'_

The innocent smile on his face warmed Tony's heart a little. He wasn't even being sarcastic, Peter just genuinely believed in the deliciousness of a home made meal. Classic.

The food truck itself, however, didn't look like it was being cared for with love. The outside was grimy, a layer of dirt caking the white paint. On the side, someone had crudely written 'wash me' in the dirt. 

"Does it come with a side of food poisoning?" Tony wondered out loud.

Peter blushed, the the dirtiness of the truck dawning on him. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to bring the Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, to a street vendor during probably his only chance to have a conversation with him. Peter tugged on his coat sleeve, unsure if he should suggest another vendor or a fancier restaurant. 

"I'm kidding. I love street meat." Tony emphasized with a wink.

Peter chuckled, relieved that Tony wasn't upset, and got in line.

"Did I tell you about my book report?" He turned to look at the older man.

"Which one? Romeo and Juliet? Always hated that book."

"No, that was last month. We read Lord of the Flies."

"Ah, right. Oink Oink, humanity is doomed."

Peter laughed loudly as Tony crinkled his nose, chortling like a pig. He wasn't one to be so silly, but he wanted the Spider-ling to feel at ease.

"Exactly! I'm writing a report on the follies of man, and I've been reading a lot of books on it."

"My autobiography, perhaps?"

Peter didn't notice the joke and continued to explain the book report. It charmed Tony, Peter wasn't one to discuss English, he preferred Science and Math, and it was good he was taking an interest in the novel.

They ordered, Tony ordering a classic dog, and Peter one of the chilli cheese. Tony's shoulders shook with laughter when the man taking their order's raised his eyebrows in disbelief that Peter actually knew Tony Stark, stammering in disbelief,

"Flash is gonna shit is pants. Penis Parker wasn't lying. He knows Tony Stark."

"Penis Parker?" Tony raised a brow, "That's what you call my employee, Mr Weiner Ranger?"

The boy's mouth popped open, and Peter howled in laughter behind him. Tony grilled the kid for a few more minutes before taking the food and leaving.

It was a good day. They were both at ease, laughing and talking about world events. It was going well, and for the first time he felt like Peter saw him as a friend and not a boss.

Which is why he was completely shocked when Peter's face blanched, eyes wide.

"What'd you just say?"

"I said it's the last week of August, and I still haven't gone skinny dipping with Peps."

"Oh my god." Peter pulled out his phone, and Tony noticed a slight tremble in his hand.

"I'm not that old," He joked nervously, "No need to get so concerned about my naked swim."

Peter pained no attention, anxiously typing buttons on his phone. Tony attempted to subtly lean forward and read the screen, but Peter pulled it back.

"Mr Stark, I'm sorry but I gotta go."

"What? Kid, is everything okay?" Tony reached to touch his shoulder, but Peter had stepped away.

"No. Yeah. I mean, yeah I'm fine. I gotta go." With that, he spun on his heels and sprinted down the alleyway, leaving Tony dumbfounded.

It was less than five minutes later that Tony was asking FRIDAY for Peter's coordinates. Fifteen when he arrived at his apartment, and Tony breathed a sigh of relief. Ten minutes later, FRIDAY notified him that Peter had disabled his GPS and was off the radar. 

Tony called Peter for the first time half an hour after he ran off. He rationed that Peter had another commitment, probably a date with MJ, who he always talked about.

He called the second time forty-five minutes later just to be sure. He didn't answer. An hour later and Tony was panicking.

Tony understood fear. He'd fought aliens, which made his legs so shaky he doubted he could stand without the suit. He went face to face with his best friend, the pain of which was a twist in his stomach. He'd seen the ultimate betrayal, seeing his parents murdered in front of him, and had felt so broken he didn't know if he could go on.

Nothing compared to the fear he had now. 

His mind wandered to worst-case scenarios-Peter kidnapped by a group of Hydra agents and tortured. Peter being poisoned and lying in an alleyway. Peter being trapped in a cave in the middle of the desert. Peter being murdered by an out of control Bucky Barnes. 

But it didn't make sense. Those were possible if he had simply vanished on the street, but why did he run away from Tony? What was on his phone that made him leave so abruptly?

Tony took to the skies, flying down the city streets he knew Peter frequented. He checked the plazas where Peter usually made his phone calls, and flew past the school three times. He told FRIDAY to check local security cameras. Wherever he was, he wasn't being seen.

Tony landed at a park bench, and considered his options. His chest was tightening, and he needed a plan quickly. 

A thought popped into his head, and he shook his head. No, he couldn't hack Peter's phone and internet history. Or could he? What if his son-no, his mentee was hurt?

"FRIDAY?" He asked, "Access Peter's internet history for the past hour."

"Are ya sure, Boss?" Even the AI seemed concerned at the invasion of privacy. Fuck it. The kid was in danger.

"Yes."

"Okay, one sec."

It felt like more than a second. While he waited, Tony tapped his fingers on his jeans. The fabric, much less expensive than his usual suits, was rough on his skin. He'd worn it to blend in, to make the kid feel at home. 

He shouldn't have tried so hard to impress him.

"Tony? Mr Parker hasn't used the internet since eight in the morning. He's only one text from anyone besides you as well."

What? Then what was he searching for?

"What was the text?"

"It was sent this morning, from Ned Leeds. Before Peter even left the house."

Was Ned in danger? Peter cared a lot about the man in the chair, could he be the one in danger?

"What did it say?"

"Boss-"

"What did it say!" Tony shouted at the machine, his hand clenching as he spoke. He could feel his breath becoming laboured. This wasn't a situation he was enjoying.

"It said, 'Thinking of you today. Let me know if you need to talk.'"

What the fuck did that mean? Why would Peter need to talk to Ned? Tony racked through the mental file of assignments, stressors, and other questions that Peter might have for Ned. Nothing dinged him as urgent enough to make him run like he had seen a ghost.

Ghost.

Oh no.

"What day is it, FRIDAY?" Tony's voice was suddenly soft, as if he might speak too loudly and reveal a secret to the world that didn't belong to him.

"August 10th."

"Search the obituary of Ben Parker, tell me what day he died?"

"August 10th."

Ah. 

"Tell me where he's buried. Please?"

Tony's arm had begun to ache during his search, and now he could feel it trembling. It all clicked into place now. Peter had missed, or forgotten the anniversary of his Uncle's death, and had rushed to visit the tombstone. It was exactly what Tony would have done if he was in his shoes. 

Shit, he felt bad.

Tony found Peter less than five minutes later, knees in the dirt as he knelt in front of the tombstone. His shoulders were shaking as he sobbed heavily, one hand in the dirt and the other against the granite. 

"Peter."

He didn't hear him at first, and continued to cry. Based on the noise, Tony assumed he didn't have any tears, and was dry heaving.

"Pete. It's Tony." He raised his voice, forcing himself to sound gentle even as he shouted.

Peter froze, and slowly lifted his head. 

His eyes were nearly completely bloodshot, and dark bruise-like circles had formed under them. His cheeks, flushed with exertion, were damp with tears. He looked absolutely wrecked.

For a rare moment in his life, Tony was speechless.

He wished he had the words to comfort the boy, but he knew nothing he could say would help. He felt the words bubble and die, afraid to say the wrong thing and offend the boy.

"I'm sorry." Peter hiccuped, filling the silence.

"No, I'm sorry." He replied automatically, stepping forward. "Are you okay?"

Well, obviously not. Even Peter stared at him, incredulous.

"Okay, stupid question." He wanted to chastise the boy for running off, but couldn't. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Peter slowly shook his head.

"I just want to be alone right now, Mr Stark."

Tony looked at the boy, and then looked around the cemetery. He could take the words at face value, but the way Peter was shaking concerned him too much.

"I don't think you should be alone right now."

Peter didn't respond. Slowly, he turned back to face the grave, before patting the ground beside himself, inviting Tony to sit. It reminded Tony of someone much older than the sixteen-year-old kid. 

It took Tony a moment to approach him. He felt awkward, unsure of how to comfort him. Instinctively, he wanted to wrap his arms around the boy. Despite that, he knew that if it was himself in the position, the last thing he'd want is to be touched. Instead, he simply kneeled beside Peter, and opted not to look at the boy.

"I forgot about him." Peter's voice broke as soon as he spoke, and a fresh wave of tears began. "I can't forget him, I just can't."

"Pete, you could never forget him." Tony whispered, still staring at the grave, "You carry him with you every day."

"Am I an awful person?"

"Pete, Kid, No." Tony turned and met Peter's wet eyes, "You could never be a bad person."

Peter shook his head, lip trembling, and Tony continued,

"You work tireless nights to be the neighbourhood Spiderman. You're on the ground, helping people every day. You save lives, Peter. I never met Uncle Ben," Tony gestured to the grave, "But I would bet he sure would be proud of you."

Peter pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut. 

Slowly, Tony raised an arm and put it on the younger man's shoulder. It was awkward, but Peter relaxed instantly with the contact.

They sat like that for a long time, before finally Peter looked up, a small smile ghosting his features.

"You really would have liked him, Mr Stark."

"Tell me about him, Pete."


End file.
